-25:Diverted Frustration-

"Time's up."

The quinque didn't cut as much as perforate and tear. The head went flying in a crimson spray and a sound like tearing wet cardboard, smacking ground with a dull, meaty thud. But for the disapproving hiss of rain, the intersection was dead silent. Now my body wanted to move. In two swings, I could have Kureo at kneeling height and his head ten feet away.

And then I'd probably have to kill everybody else. Easy enough. Kureo distracted, Amon exhausted, the other investigators injured. Wouldn't be too hard.

Breaking my gaze from the corpse and the sadist, I turned to look down one of the side streets. I needed to get that thought out of my head. They were deserted; the rain and ghoul had seen to that, but for the briefest of moments I could've sworn a feature by the next intersection shifted. No. I was wrong there; stress and sudden murderous impulse must've been messing with my perception.

Probably.

I clipped my quinque back onto my belt, pushing out a breath through my teeth with a hiss. Maybe I saw something, maybe not. In any case, assisting Amon and his mostly unhinged partner was no longer a priority.

Now, taking down Kureo on the other hand... That thought was shoved back down into the stewing hate in my chest. Being mad at either of them was out of the question, not unless I wanted a vicious and possibly lethal reprisal and an international incident.

So I vented at the other investigators, particularly the one who had apparently forgotten basic firearm safety. No wonder they handed out melee weapons like candy. Making sure the clod knew just how acute my disapproval was involved a minute-long rant at as loud a volume I could maintain while not sounding like Kureo.

"—Now. Pass me. The firearm."

"I—I—" The man looked more scared of me than he had of the ghoul. "o-ok."

I took it, pulled the magazine and ejected the round in the chamber. "Here."

I flipped the safety back on then passed him back the gun and pocketed the munitions.

"When we get back, we're going to talk with whoever gave you this."

"Let's head out." Amon had packed the corpse into a sizable black duffel; a more public-friendly version of a body bag.

"Is there any cleanup we need to do?" I queried, retrieving my umbrella.

"The rain is our cleaner today!" There were several notes of afterglow in Kureo's tone. "It will wash what little we left where it belongs—right into the sewers."

Well, he wasn't wrong. At least I didn't have to carry the bag, which Amon carried like it was filled with feathers.

The drive back was quiet, apart from Kureo humming a tune on the final leg of the trip. There was one buzz from my phone though—a text. Rather than being from Robalson, this one was from Harvey, the office lawyer. It was a picture of a man sitting at my desk with the caption, 'went to find you, instead found your replacement. How about I call you at lunch in a day or two?'.

That was hardly unusual. Harvey ran anywhere from four to six cases at a time and was notorious around the office for keeping vampire hours and unannounced visits. I had one case open with him currently, but it had been on the back burner as we waited on a trial out west.

Still. I couldn't believe they just gave him my desk. And that I was irritated by that fact.

Naturally, the first thing we did after parking was bring Kureo and the body bag down to the lab. I suppose the old man wanted another quinque. The next thing, naturally, was wait to be found by the other investigator.

"What are you going to do with him?" Amon asked, as we waited near the lab.

"Maybe yell at him again." I shrugged. "Definitely going to tell the whoever's working at the armory what he pulled and get him signed up for a safety class. And hopefully get his weapons privilege revoked until he does."

"If he dies because he didn't have a way to defend himself, it'll look bad in the papers."

"I'd rather not get shot."

Amon's mouth opened and I expected a sardonic response. But his jaw snapped shut and he only shrugged.

Once Handgun Moron found us, it was a short elevator ride of shame to the basement and the quartermaster, who listened to my story with roughly the same irritated speechlessness that Amon had. Silently, he accepted the firearm and the rounds with a look of disapproval. Somehow, that silent treatment put every drill sergeant roar I had suffered to shame. It was as simple as signing a pair of forms, and that was it. We walked out one firearm lighter and one idiot disarmed.

-Author's notes-

So, first a bit of housekeeping; I'm moving to a M-W-F update schedule, with a chance of a weekend update.

On the more technical side, determining what kind of time frames the series operates on is kind of difficult-looking at environmental details, looking up the wiki, applying what i know about investigative work. That said, I've been pleased with the results thus far, and I hope you've all enjoyed them as well.

Lastly, I do have a few pieces of world-building that I've considered making into a bonus update (after cleaning them up and purging spoilers), so keep an eye out for a bonus chapter or two in the future.